


To Whom Do You Belong?

by brightlycoloredteacups



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightlycoloredteacups/pseuds/brightlycoloredteacups
Summary: Ivar spies you kissing an earl. Angry with you, he decides to punish you for it.





	To Whom Do You Belong?

When the earl leaned down to kiss you, Ivar expected you to push him off. You were his, after all, no one else could touch you. It didn’t matter that you kept him your secret, you were his and his alone. To see someone else put his hands on you? It enraged him. He watches as you pull back and give the earl a gentle smile. It was all he could stomach.

He slid from his chair and from the feast hall. Slithering through the crowd, he made his way to your cabin. It was the only place he could punish you properly. Such insolence, allowing another man to touch you. You even had the gall to enjoy it! Anger helped push him through the thick mud of Kattegat. Bursting through your door he slammed it shut with a vicious growl. His chest was heaving as he sat in the dark, thinking of all the things he could do to you.

As fast as ideas flew into his head, they flew right out. Whipping you wouldn’t be enough, he had to torture you tonight. He must remind you who you belonged to. His was the only touch you would enjoy, now for the rest of your days. His lips curled into a vicious smile, he knew exactly how to get his point across.

You walk quickly towards your cabin, wanting to wash the taste of that filthy man from your mouth. When the earl had leaned down to kiss you, you had frozen, not sure what to do. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve had them dazed and confused on the floor in a matter of seconds. But this was an earl, and you were just one shield maiden in Kattegat. The best shield maiden, but that title only got you so far when it came to your betters. Your mother would have been proud at how diplomatically you handled the situation.

You had given the earl a smile and told him your heart belonged to someone else. The earl had looked about the room, wondering aloud were your man was. You gritted your teeth, cursing Ivar for keeping you a secret. You understood the logic behind it. If word got out Ivar had a lover as lowly in the ranks as you, it would no doubt cause him trouble, best in Kattegat or no. Still, you held your ground and maintained that your love was true. Before he had the chance to answer, you turned from him and walked out of the hall.

You opened the door to your cabin, only to see it was dark. Your heart fell into your belly. Ivar wasn’t here. No matter, he was probably charming his way into someone’s pockets. You set your cloak on a peg next to your door and began removing your outer clothing. It was wet in Kattegat to night, cold. You would take a bath in warm, scented water, to sooth your nerves. But first, to get the taste of that man from your lips.

You always had a barrel of mead in your home. You drank enough to require it. Dipping your horn in, you began to drink deeply. “Aren’t you going to offer me any?” A voice asks. You sputter and choke. “Ivar? What the hell? Why are you in the dark?” He doesn’t answer you at first. “A mead horn woman.” He says. There’s something in his tone that tells you not to argue.

If this was outside of your home, if you hadn’t already discussed the nature of your relationship with him, you wouldn’t have obeyed. Such as it was, you did as he asked and refilled your cup. Walking over to your bed, you wonder how you could’ve missed him. “Start the fire,” He orders. “Begin warming my bath water.”

“Ivar,” You sigh, looking at his silhouette in the dark. “Not tonight, please.”

“You prince is issuing orders; you would do well to obey them.” Thankfully, he misses your wince in the dark. You putter about your home, coaxing a fire to life, and start heating water for his bath. You don’t comment how filthy he is. You weren’t the one that had to drag yourself through the dirt. “Undress.” He orders. “Then come stand in front of me, backside facing me.” You do as your told, know what’s coming. There’s only every a few instances in which Ivar issued that order.

As you take position, he wastes no time in bringing a switch to your ass. You yelp at the suddenness. Without soothing it, he lays another whip to the other cheek. This time, you groan in pleasure. The sting is harsh, but he kisses the pain away. “My Warrior,” He whispers, nipping harshly at a cheek. “You must remind me, to whom do you belong?” Another crack to a cheek had you weak in the knees. “I belong to you, Prince Ivar.” You squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve some pressure. “My Warrior,” He continues, two more cracks. “Who is the only man in all of Kattegat that can please you?”

“You are Prince Ivar.”

“Whom do you serve?”

“You,” Instead of another smack, he gives a vicious bite. You moan at the sensation. “I think the water is warm enough.”

You scurry to pour the warm water into the tub. It’s already half full with cold water, but the temperature will even out enough for him to enjoy his bath. Before he can even order it, you know what he wants done next. You rush over to him and begin undoing the ties to his clothing. You hate this part, because you can’t linger, you aren’t allowed to. You loved nothing more than to glide your hands over Ivar’s skin, tracing his muscles, placing open mouthed kisses on his flesh. To be denied the pleasure is agony to you.

Once he’s naked, he crawls across the floor and pulls himself into the tub. Leaning back, he turns to you. “You will wash me.” The area your tub sits has a small stool with a wash rag already on it. You position it closer to Ivar and set about your task. It irritates you, this game he’s playing. One little slip and it’s all over, he goes home and you go to bed frustrated. You concentrate on keeping your skin separate from his with the little rag. An ‘exercise in patience’ Ivar had once called it. Patience hell, this little task wanted to make you kill the little fucker.

You smooth the rag over his skin, taking off the sweat and dirt of the day. His intense gaze only makes it harder for you to concentrate. When the rag swipes over his chest, you take advantage of what little leverage you have and make sure to pay extra attention to his nipples. Passing the rag over them more than once, he grabs your wrist to stop you. You look at him innocently. “My prince?” You say, “Why did you stop me from my task?”

“Don’t play games,” He growls. Releasing your wrist. “Or I will leave.”

“Yes, My prince.”

His bath progresses quickly after that. You’re eager to get things over with. At last, when you’re finished, Ivar hauls himself from the tub and onto the floor. He crawls his way in front of the fire place, getting comfortable. He’s long since made a nest of furs there, specifically for him after his bath. Often, he let you ride him to bliss when he was done. But tonight, you knew better.

You watch from your seat, waiting for your next order. He doesn’t give you one, instead, he wraps his hand around his thick length and begins to glide his fingers up and down. You swallow the lump in your throat. “My prince, isn’t that something I should be doing?”

“Why should I reward you?” He asks, turning his head towards you. “I know how much you love touching my cock.” He swirls his thumb over the head and brings his hand back down. His words are lost to you, your only focused on the desire you’re trying to battle. “I know how much you love the taste of it. No, I won’t reward you tonight. You’re going to sit, and watch, and suffer.”

You let out a whimper, shifting in your seat to relieve the pressure. As he’s torturing you, you try and think back over what you did that day. What had you done to upset him so? In the morning, you’d woken him up his favorite way, kisses and sex. You hadn’t seen each other after that. You hadn’t even seen him in the feast hall. Had you walked past him completely oblivious to his presence. Unlikely, you had the uncanny ability to pick Ivar out in a crowd. His gaze doesn’t leave your face, enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

His resulting grunt rips you from your thoughts. Oh, right, Ivar was pleasuring himself right in front of you and you were missing the show. You can tell by the jerking movements he’s making, he’s close. You watch him writhe and grunt as he chases his release. He comes with a shudder, thick white spurts spilling over his belly. He hasn’t stopped looking at you, and finally manages to catch your gaze. “Come clean me up,” He orders. You jump to your task, bringing the damp rag with you. It’s nearly in pieces with how much you’ve twisted it. You kneel beside him, but before you can wipe him off, he stops you. “With your tongue.” He orders.

You hesitate for a moment, looking at his face to see if he’s serious. You determine he is, and bend down to begin your task. You start at the furthest point from his cock, incidentally right in the middle of his chest. You give him one long lick and take a moment to savor his taste. He’s always tasted muted to you, salty, but not sharp. You’ve quickly grown fond of it.

You complete your task as slowly as possible, still it’s over all too soon. You sit up, trying to lick the last of his taste from your lips, sad that it’s over. Your busy trying to figure out how you can make it up to him when he yanks you into a bruising kiss. When he breaks it, you’re breathless and confused. “Why do you hide me?” He growls. “Why do you let other men kiss you?” You frown, trying to figure it out. “Ivar, what-”

“I don’t want to be a secret anymore.” He says. “I want to be your lover, out in the open. I want everyone to know who My Warrior is. I don’t want anyone to have you but me. No more kissing earls, no more being kept in the dark. If you don’t want anyone to know about us, then I don’t want to be with you.”

You mouth works for a few moments, trying to comprehend what he just said. “Ivar,” You whisper, taking on the easier half of his speech. “That earl kissed me, I didn’t want him to, and it was disgusting.” You explain. His face softens at the sincerity of your voice. “And I thought you were the one that wanted to keep everything a secret.”

“Why would I want to keep the knowledge that I’m the lover of the most powerful woman in Kattegat a secret?” He brushes a strand of hair in your face. “Oh Ivar,” You say, throwing your arms around him. “We’ll worry about it all tomorrow. Right now, just love me.”


End file.
